The Magical Mystery Tour
by Tiny Q
Summary: No, this isn’t some twisted Beatles song fic, but Ginny and Draco are a little unsound. Ok, bit of an understatement... So what happens when they get caught up with some angry books? Some rather bad dreams, that’s what. D/G
1. Welcome to the Jungle

Title: The Magical Mystery Tour

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Well, as I have mentioned before, I have been trying to get out as many old ideas as I can.  I have a huge pile of song fic ideas that I have been pondering writing, but never did.  So, I finally figured out a way to use a few of them.  In a satirical way of course.  So please, don't take this story too seriously.  I sure didn't.  

Disclaimer:  I own nothing.  Nope.  Not even the songs.  Not even Ginny.  And sadly, not even Draco.  Though, I do put a claim on their insanity for it seems to reflect my own for some reason...  Oh, and so you know, the idea of books getting angry is from Terry Pratchett and his Discworld series.  Such a great series...

**The Magical Mystery Tour******

**Chapter 1**

**Welcome to the Jungle**

~*~

            Grumbling to herself, Ginny traveled through the library, searching high and low.  She knew the book had been misplaced, taken and shoved on some shelf or another.  Ms. Pince had assured her that it was still in the library, but she was too busy to help her find it.  She had people in the Restricted Section to watch with her hawk-like eyes.

            Ginny let out a hiss of annoyance.  She hated libraries.  She hated books.  She especially hated books that she couldn't find.  What was the point of having a filing system to find books if the books weren't in their place?  It was all pointless.  Why not just have the books scattered about the floor then?  That way everything would be in chaos and no one would be happy. 

            Ginny smirked.  Then she sneezed.

            "Eww," she sighed, wiping her slightly moist hand on her hip.  "That was gross," she muttered to herself, tilting her head to the side and traveling along in a hunched manner, butt first, trying to read the names of the spines on one of the lower shelves.  

            They were all in Latin.  Ginny hated Latin.  Yes, she had suddenly decided that she did.  There was no reason why she should like it while it tormented her.  It also seemed to be taunting her.  Taunting her for not being able to find her book.  Now that she thought about it though, all the books in the library seemed to be doing this to her.  She really hated books.

            Now you might be wondering just why Ginny is so spiteful.  Well, it's not an entirely everyday occurrence really.  It just tends to happen when she doesn't get enough sleep, or enough food, or it was that nasty time of the month, or someone had ticked her off.  So it was a two out of three day occurrence now that I think about it.  

            Yet she has reasons to be like this I suppose.  People don't take her seriously.  They never did.  She's just the little baby girl to her family, the one to be coddled and protected while her brothers spewed off tales of daring and adventure that she was supposed to squeal about.  At school she was seen as the quite one out.  Ron Weasley's, best friend of the Boy Who Lived, little sister.  The one you shouldn't go near if you valued your life.  Well, not really, but that was the rumor.  Well there were those options.  Those and the fact that Ginny couldn't find her book.

            She knew her Charms assignment needed something good.  Something different.  Something that people had hopefully not handed in in the last century or so.  She didn't think Flitwick would be able to recall a hundred years of essays anyways.  Even if he was that old, which Ginny knew he wasn't.

            This was why Ginny was traveling amongst the untouched, dusty volumes in the back of the library.  Her footprints were leaving marks on the floor it was so undisturbed by anything but dust.  Yet it was the perfect place to find the perfect material.  If only the book had been there of course.  

            She continued her slouched shuffle, knowing full well that her butt was wiggling about in the process.  There was no one to see though, so what was the harm?  Right?

            Something caught her eye and she stopped, peering forward, not quite sure if she should believe her eyes or not.  She continued this peering for a moment longer then let out a whoop of joy.  Reaching forward she grabbed the no longer misplaced book and gingerly lifted it from the shelf.

            "Oh," she said happily, grinning down on the not so large volume.  "I love books."

            "You sound like Granger," a voice drawled from behind her.  Ginny raised the book slightly then slowly straightened her slightly stiff back.  Staring at the shelf for a moment to steel herself against what was surely to come, Ginny turned around to face her most hated associate.

            "Malfoy," she said dryly, staring at the lean blonde with dislike.  "What a surprise."

            "Oh, I can see it etched all over that ugly face of yours," he sneered at her, his grey eyes dropping to look at the dusty book in her hand.  She moved it closer to her person.  She hadn't been sneezing up a storm to lose her book now.  Nope.  She worked to get it.  It was hers now.

            "Are you sure you're not just seeing a reflection of yourself?" she snarled back, resisting the urge to smack herself.  Lame, lame, lame! was running through her head.  But she told the voice to shut up.  She didn't really care.  It was only Malfoy after all.  And she had to sneeze again.

            "Well, that was a good one," he drawled, taking a step towards her.  Then another.  And another.  Ginny frowned at him, not moving from her spot.  She wasn't scared of him.  How could she be?  Especially after he had run away from some flying snot.  He never did quite forgive her for that.  Which was probably why he was here now: to participate in another wondrous round of Torment the Little Red Headed Weasley Girl!  (His personal favorite).  Ginny mentally growled at the voice announcing things in her head.  "Not exactly up to your usual standards, are we?"

            "Oh go dig yourself a hole and die in it," she spat, not exactly feeling in the mood to listen to the ferret boy act all high and mighty on his invisible horse.  She tended to think of it as his invisible slug really, but no one seemed to care for this particular thought so she often kept it to herself.  With a sniff from her slightly itchy nose, she turned away from him and made to leave the library.

            Only a hand on her arm stopped her.

            "Let go of me, Malfoy," she said icily, not even turning to look at him.  She really hated him.  Him and his self-proclaimed greatness.  He really wasn't that great.  He really wasn't that loved either.  No one liked him. Or at least Ginny liked to think so.  And besides, he was ugly.  Ok, that was a touch of an understatement.  So was that.  He was devilishly handsome, making it even more infuriating because the git knew it.  Ginny resisted the urge to hiss.

            "But I wasn't finished with you yet," he drawled, pulling her around to face him.  She felt her lip twist.

            "Oh, so sorry," she said in an apologetic voice.  "What would you like me to do for you to make up for it then?  Skip about?  Sing?  Dance?  Strip?  All of above?"  She let out a disgusted noise at the interest that had appeared on his face.  "You are such a pig Malfoy."

            "Well, I'm not the one who was raised with them," he responded, his hand traveling up to catch in her long and wavy red hair.  She jerked her head away.

            "Yes, and that is why I recognize the resemblance you have to swine," she snarled, trying to jerk her arm free.  Yet it didn't really work.  He was a touch too strong for her.  Only thing she managed to do was upset her nose.  And since her free arm was still grasping her book, she had no way to cover her mouth in a convenient way...

            "Achoo!"  Pause.  "Eww."

            "Gah, did you just _sneeze_ on me, Weasley?" Malfoy gasped, his voice dripping with indignation and disgust.  His hand dropped off her arm.  Ginny grinned slightly at the new Malfoy repellant she had just discovered.

            "Yes I apparently did," she said with a sniff, grinning up at him.  "And if you don't leave me alone I will sneeze on you some more because there is plenty more dust about that is just dying to make itself present in my olfactory system."

            Malfoy took another step back.  "Why don't you go sneeze on your precious Potter, Weasley?" he snarled at her, looking disdainfully down on his robes, which seemed a touch damp, then glared at her.  "I know how much you love it when he yells at you."

            "Oh screw off!" Ginny heard herself yell, and before she could really think of what she was doing she had thrown her precious book at him.  It wasn't that she didn't like the book, not after all her searching and sneezing, but her contempt for Malfoy outweighed her fondness of the book.  

            She then opened her mouth once more to say that Harry had issues.  That it wasn't fair of Malfoy to pick fun of him.  That Malfoy would not have survived if he had been in Harry's shoes because he was a weak ninny.  That he should be thankful rather than insulting for all that Harry had done.  But she never quite got the chance.

            Malfoy flung up his arms to stop the book from hitting him in the face, like a good book should.  However, there was another dusty volume in his own hands and Ginny's book collided with it.  There was a blinding flash of blue light and Ginny let out a yelp of surprise as she felt magic rush through her.

~*~

            "Stop your screaming, you stupid girl," Draco hissed at the red head before him, lowering the book down from before his face.  He stared down at it, not quite sure if he trusted it anymore.  And for good reason.  Who would trust a book that flashed music for no apparent reason?  Well, it did have a reason really.  It had been hit by another book.  It had full right to get angry.  But were books actually capable of getting angry?  Apparently they could, though Draco refused to quite believe it.  "Pince will have our heads."

            "Oh, and making books blow up won't?" she sneered at him, pushing her long hair out of her face.  She glowered at him.  "And I wasn't screaming.  I just let out a sharp gasp."

            "Whatever," he hissed at her, trying to keep his voice down, still looking at the book.  "It sounded like screaming to me."  He paused.  "And the books did not blow up."

            "Well that's because you're an idiot, Malfoy," she snapped.  Draco slowly raised his head to look at her.  He always enjoyed the way she spat his name when she was angry.  It was one of the reasons why he took time out of his life to bother her, just so he could hear his name be spat off her tongue.  He knew it was not healthy, but then, he was a Malfoy.  A purebred one at that.  Who knew how many of his ancestors were inbred?  Insanity was to be expected.  Even if it was just a case of wanting to hear his name spoken in a rude manner.  "And if it didn't blow up, then what the hell did they do?  Bursting with joy doesn't seem to really fit, does it?"

            "Don't be daft," he snapped at her, once again looking down at the book.  It had been odd.  He had never seen a book do that before.  Never.  It was almost as if the books were alive.  This idea gave him the creeps as he stared at his volume.  He could almost feel it staring back.  He tore his eyes from the book thinking that this was the last time he ever touched one from the Restricted Section.  What he had planned to do with it no longer seemed quite such a good idea.  Not if the book was alive.  That was just wrong.

            "Don't be daft?" she scoffed.  "I wasn't the one who used the book as a shield in the first place!"

            "No, you just threw it," he drawled back, narrowing his eyes.  Merlin how he hated her.  Her and all her happiness and bitterness.  Her and all her joyful little friends.  Her and her pleasantly curved hips and pouty lips.  Her and her horrendous Weasley hair and freckles.  Her and her pathetic lack of wealth.  Oh, how he hated her.  And yet he always found himself drawn to her for some reason.

            It had become one of his favorite pastimes really, torment the youngest Weasley.  It even took president over tormenting the Dream Team at times.  For unlike them, the younger girl never tried to hex him or hurt him physically.  No, she just used that wicked tongue of hers, lashing out with words and retorts he knew were far beyond the capacity of Potter to even comprehend.  It was refreshing to be insulted properly sometimes.

            The girl before him gave off a sniff and she bent down to pick up the book on the floor.  Draco found his eyes resting on her rear that was once again pointed up in the air.  He was a guy.  It was allowed, even if it was a Weasley.  He pointedly looked away at that thought.  His father would be having a conniption if he knew what was going through his head.  But then, his father wasn't quite right in his head anymore anyway.  Not that he ever had been, come to think of it.  He had served the Dark Lord after all.

            "I don't have time for this," she sniffed at him, straightening out.  She glared at him, coming a few inches short of eye level.  At least she was tall, not like that bint Pansy who was always clinging on him like some sort of deranged monkey.  Darco resisted the urge to smack himself in the head.  Oh, how he hated the stupid red head.  Just look what she was making him think!  "I have potions first thing tomorrow."

            "Oh, wouldn't want to fall asleep face first into the potion, now would you?" he sneered at her as she took a step backward, the book once again clutched to her chest.

            "That was weak," she stated, raising an eyebrow.  "Couldn't think of anything better, could you?"  Draco sneered at her.  "And no, I do not particularly want to take that face dive into my potion.  It would be a bit unpleasant."

            With this said, she walked past him, her shoulder bumping into his on the way.  Draco turned and glared daggers at her back, yet the girl did not wilt.  Wilt damn you, wilt.  Yet it never happened.  All he heard was a sniffle.  

            "Get a Kleenex, will you!" he called after her, instantly thinking it was the worst insult he had ever heard.  Yet he did get a response.  It was one of his other favorite reactions from her.  She raised an elegant hand and showed him the middle finger.  He had always admired her hands, even if they were doing something rude like that.  Well, especially when she did something rude like that with them.  

            He had to get a life. 

            Without thought, he raised the book in his hands and whacked his head soundly with it.  Little streamers of blue magic swirled down around him.

~*~

            When Ginny opened her eyes, she found that she was no longer surrounded by the comforting darkness that she had fallen asleep to in her dorm room.  Now she found herself standing in the middle of gray expanse that didn't seem to quite end, just go off until she could see nothing but more grayness.  She frowned slightly, looking around, taking in the fact that she was dressed in her school robes.  She had never had a dream quite like this before.  And it seemed to be a pretty dull dream as far as dreams go.  And don't mind her pun.

            "The Magical Mystery Tour is coming to take you away," a voice sang through the gray expanse with a chiming, chipper tone.  Ginny snapped her head about, trying to find the source of the voice.  Yet she saw no one.  "Coming to take you away.  Take you today."  

            The voice faded and Ginny frowned.  For some reason the tune had sounded very familiar and so had the words.  But for the life of her she couldn't quite remember.  She was really beginning to hate her memory.  It never remembered things when it should but always seemed to remember something she didn't want to.  Yup, that is definite justification for hate.

            "Great," she said, crossing her arms.  "I'm stuck in some sort twisted musical."  She let out a small harrumph and hunched her shoulders slightly.  She was going to pout until she woke up apparently.  It seemed a good enough plan to her, considering her surroundings of course.

            "You know, Weasley," a voice drawled from behind her, and Ginny started slightly, whipping around.  "You shouldn't talk to yourself, even if you think there's no one around.  It's not a very good sign where your sanity is concerned."

            "And what would you care about my sanity, Malfoy?" she spat, glaring at the boy before her.  He was dressed in his school robes as well, sneering at her.  Then she frowned.  "And what are you doing in my dream?"

            "I was about to ask you the same thing," he drawled at her, taking a step towards her.  She really hated how he did that.  It was like he thought he was the most perfect being in the universe.  Well she had news for him, he wasn't perfect.  No, it was just that he was a touch on the pretty side.  But that does not constitute perfect being-hood.

            "Well, it's my dream, so I think you should be doing the answering and not the questioning," Ginny hissed impatiently, looking around warily.  This was definitely an odd dream.  Why would she be able to talk to Malfoy as though he was real?  As though he was dreaming the same dream as her?  A commune dream?

            "No, this is my dream," he sneered, shaking his head.  "I was here first.  You just sort of came out of the gray."

            "No, I was here first," Ginny snapped, glaring at him.  "There was no one here but that voice."

            "You mean the one that was singing that Beatles song?" he asked her, the drawl returning.  

            Ginny stopped and stared.  Malfoy had heard it too?  Malfoy knew about Muggle bands?  Malfoy perhaps had a few surprise to him that she never really thought him capable of.  And Malfoy was right too.  It had been a Beatles song.  She silently cursed herself for not picking up on it.  She had only listened to that band being played to death by the twins only five months ago over the summer holidays.  She really wished they would get some new music for the next time she helped them in their store.  Not that she didn't like the Beatles of course.  Who doesn't like the Beatles?

            Ginny opened her mouth then to respond, but never quite got the chance for a new voice boomed across the void.

            "Hello ladies and gentlemen!  Welcome to the Magical Mystery Tour!" the voice boomed.  It sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.  This was becoming an annoying trend.  Oh, how she hated her memory.  "Today I am pleased to present the ever screwed up band with their inspirational body moving music!  That's right, Guns and Roses everybody!"

            Enthusiastic clapping erupted from somewhere around them and Ginny looked about wildly to find where it was coming from.  Then she stopped moving.  "What is Lee Jordan doing here?"

            "You mean his voice," Malfoy offered helpfully, a helpful sneer to accompany his helpful facial expression.

            "Whatever," Ginny snapped, looking around again.  She didn't quite know why she was looking about in such a manner, but she suspected it was better than just looking at Malfoy.  Grayness was better then the likes of him any day.

            "Yes I know," Lee's voice boomed once more after the cheers had stopped.  "I'm excited too.  But I suppose you all want to know what I'm going to play, don't you?  Well, it's that song that I know you all know."  He paused and Ginny found herself looking around again.  But there was still nothing to see but grayness.  "Welcome to the Jungle!"  

            There was more clapping.

            "So, let's get this party started, eh?"

            With that said, the grayness suddenly lifted away and Ginny let out a gasp at what was reviled to her eyes.

            "Oh gosh."

~*~

            Draco looked around, not quite sure that he liked what he was seeing.  And who could blame him really when every person he despised in Hogwarts was standing before him.  Sure, there were quite a few people that he didn't know, but there was a larger amount of detested people than there were unknown.  He also wasn't too keen about the dark forest that was surrounding him.  It was a jungle really.  A dark one.  One with potential tropical werewolves inside it.  Draco repressed a shudder.

            He turned his head to see the dream invading red head beside him glaring at the new arrivals and their new surroundings.  Even when she was mirroring the same look of dislike on her own face, he hated her.  What right did she have to feel like him?

            "I don't like this," she whispered to him, not moving from her position.  Draco was glad about this.  He didn't know if he could take the girl he hated so much moving towards him for protection.  It would just be awkward.

            "What's not to like, Weasley?" he sneered at her.  "Green foliage, all the company we could ever desire, and oh yes, we can't forget this darling view."

            "Oh shut up," she snapped at him, turning her glare towards him.  Draco felt satisfaction slowly swell inside of his chest.  It was very rare that she told him to "shut up".  It was a pleasing phrase really.  He was about to see if he could get her to say it again, when music began to play out of no where.  He looked about but could find no definite source.  Then one of the hated people stepped forward.  It was that ever pathetic Boy Who Lived.  The Potter that just wouldn't die.  Who just wouldn't lose.

            "Welcome to the jungle!  We've got fun and games!" the messy haired boy sang out, in perfect tune to the music.  Draco frowned with contempt.  How could he sing like that?  It didn't even sound like his voice!  Let alone the fact that this was Potter singing.  It was just wrong.  And to top things off, the stupid scar headed freak was dressed in some sorry excuse for a loincloth.  It was disgusting.  He hated this dream with a passion now.  He never wanted to see anything so horrid ever again.

            "We got everything you want!  Honey, we know the names!" the Mudblood Granger hissed out, also dressed in stupid tribal wear, leaning forward in an odd way.  A predatorily way.  Now that Draco saw this second fashion disaster he noticed that all of the people before them were dressed in a similar fashion, all leering and sneering at them.  Draco's hate was beginning to surpass simple hate now.  But he wasn't quite sure what it was surpassing to...

            "We are the people who can find whatever you may need," the oldest Weasley left in Hogwarts hissed at them.  Draco glared.  This was getting to be too much.  Now the entire Dream Team could sing?  This was one really twisted dream.  He hated it and he wanted out.  "If you got the money, honey, we got your disease!"

            Draco could have sworn the over grown weasel had winked at him when he said that and he found himself taking an involuntary step back.  Only to almost bump into someone behind him.  Apparently the others that had been in the group had moved around them, forming a circle.  A circle that was slowly closing.  He glanced to the Weasley girl beside him.  She was beginning to look a touch more than nervous.  If he didn't know better, he would have to say that he saw fear in her eyes.  He had never been able to invoke that.  He felt a sudden anger at the fact that this dream could cause her to be more afraid than he could.

            "In the Jungle, welcome to the jungle!" all of the people screamed around him, beginning to do some odd dance in their circle, as though he and the red head were a great fire to worship.  He stared at them, knowing that he did not want to stay in this dream any longer.  He pinched his arm.  Nothing happened.  He was still dreaming.  

            "Watch it bring you to your knees, knees!"  Then one person in the group stepped forward, away from the others and hissed: "I wanna watch you bleed!"

            The red head beside him let out a small gasp of fright, her hand flying to her chest.  Draco stared at her.  He had never seen a reaction like that before.  He followed her frightened eyes to the black haired boy who had stepped out of the group.  He could see nothing familiar about him, but he had to admit he had a sense of power to him.  A sense of dark power.  Even if he was dressed in ridiculous rags and leaves.  Draco wished he could be like that, just to see the stupid red head's hand fly like that.

            "Welcome to the jungle!  We take it day by day," this dark haired person sang, walking further away from his group and closer to the terrified Weasley.  She took a step back away from him.  Then another.  And another, until she was beside Draco.  He could see her trembling.  Yet she didn't look at him.  She just kept staring at the dark haired boy who was moving ever closer.  Oh, how he wanted to be like him.  "If you want it you're going to bleed.  But it's the price you pay."

            The red head continued to back up and Draco began to get the sense that he should be backing up as well.  Even if it was his new idol who was approaching.  He hadn't achieved the ability to be that intimidating yet so he figured he wasn't immune to it yet.  Yes, that's what it was.  Or at least that is what he told himself as he took a step back along with the Weasley.  Yet as he backed up, he noticed that the people in the circle were moving closer to them.  Tightening their circle and making it impossible to leave.  Trapping them.

            "And you're a very sexy girl," the dark haired boy whispered, coming to a stop a foot in front of the Weasley beside him.  Draco stared at her.  She had stopped shaking, yet her eyes were still wide and her complexion quite pale.  Yet he couldn't quite bring himself to do anything.  It was fascinating to see just how scared she could get.  Just how much potential there was inside of her.  He knew he should have done something though.  He wasn't the one tormenting her and for some reason he was getting the feeling that no one else should be able to.  No one but him.  Draco knew then that he was past the point of being normal.

            He still couldn't move though.  It was as if his feet were rooted to the ground and all he could do is stare.  He watched silently as the boy reached out a hand and cupped the girl's face.  

            "That's very hard to please," he drawled, an evil glint to his eyes.  He moved his face clearer to hers, and Draco wondered why she wasn't moving if this creature scared her so.  She wouldn't stand for him to do what this bint was doing, so why would she not stand up for herself?  What had happened to the strong willed Weasley he usually spared with?  Why had she shied away?

            As if reading his mind, her head snapped back suddenly, her eyes narrowing into slits.  She shoved the dark haired boy's hand away roughly, glaring at him with a vehemence that Draco had never quite seen.  He felt anger once more that he had never gotten her that angry.  And yet at the same time he felt that touch of appreciation for the dark haired boy.  He knew how to vex her.  

            "Stop!" she suddenly shrieked.  

            Everyone present stared at her as if she had gone insane.  It was as if time had frozen though.  A moment later there was a howling wind and everything was swept up into it.  Draco felt himself standing there, being pushed about, but his feet never left the ground.  He couldn't see a thing and the sound of the wind was intolerable.  Then, as soon as it had begun, the wind died down and he was surrounded by grayness once more. The only person present was a slightly winded Weasley, staring about wildly.

            "Well, that got a little out of hand," Jordan's voice sliced through the air, causing Draco to start slightly.  "But I'm sure I will have it all figured out by tomorrow!"

            "What do you mea-" Draco began to scream, but never got the chance to completely voice his question. To ask what he meant by "tomorrow".  What the hell that had all been.  Why he was getting the sinking suspicion that this wasn't an ordinary dream.  That there was something terribly wrong.

            But everything went black.

~*~

            An instant later, two teens awoke from a cold sweat.  Each looking about in a frantic sort of way to spot the other, yet neither one found what they were looking for.  It took a moment, but eventually they both flopped down upon their pillows once more.

            "Shit."

~*~

A/N:  Well, how was that for a beginning?  I had such a hard time picking the song, but Lallie helped me out.  Now, all I have to do is figure out how the rest of it is going to fit in here...  So.  Smash or Trash??


	2. Old Time Rock and Roll

Title: Magical Mystery Tour

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out, but I have been balancing a few too many things.  Bah.  Anyhoo, it's here and I have the next chapter planned out, so that's a step in the right direction.  Don't really have much else to say but enjoy, so, Enjoy!!

Disclaimer:  I own nothing unfortunately.  All I really want is a Draco of my own...  He doesn't even have to have an accent...  I would still love him...  ~gets taken away by people in white suits, Lallie cackling all the while~

**Magical Mystery Tour******

**Chapter 2**

**Old Time Rock and Roll**

~*~

            Ginny glared at the cobble stones as she trudged her way back to the school.  She hated feeling dirty.  She especially hated feeling dirty when she looked filthier than if she had been rolling around in mud.  Very filthy mud.  She felt as if she could stomp her feet and make half the caked on dirt drop off.  She tried it, it almost worked.

            Now you might be wondering why Ginny is in such a state of filthiness.  Well I have one word for you: Quidditch.  Tuesday night is Gryffindor's official practice time.  Yet their Captain is known to schedule several more a week.  It all depended on how fanatical he was feeling.  

            He seemed to be very fanatical today, or at least that's what Ginny seemed to think.  She mentally spat.  Oh how she hated her brother.  Yet she couldn't quite decide what she hated more, him or his Quidditch obsession.  She supposed she couldn't hate one without the other.

            He had been a total git, thus justifying Ginny's spiteful thoughts of today.  It wasn't exactly a sunny day to play Quidditch.  No, it was quite gloomy and rainy, but that wasn't his fault.  That only made her hate the weather.  But he had been brutal today.  He had screamed and turned red in the face and had almost thrown a tantrum.  Almost.  And then he had the nerve to take it out on her in the end.  He made her do one hundred extra laps around the pitch while everyone else went back to the school.  Oh how she hated him right now.

            It wasn't her fault that the stupid bint Beverly had whacked her with her Beater's bat.  It also hadn't been her fault that Ginny yelled at her for it.  Well, the girl had been smirking at her at the time.  Ginny was beginning to get the impression that the younger girl hated her more than Ginny hated the younger girl.  She didn't know how it was possible, but apparently it was.

            Now though, all Ginny wanted to do was get up to Gryffindor Tower, have a shower then flop on her bed and fall asleep.  She didn't care if she remembered to pull the covers over her head or not.  Sleeping in a chill would be better than walking towards the school all dirty.  Anything was.  Ok, perhaps not anything, but this was her state of mind at the moment.

            But then something occurred to her.  Something she had tried to forget all day.  If she went to sleep, then perhaps that horrible dream would return, as Dream Lee had promised.  She shuddered at this, readjusting her broom on her shoulder.  It wasn't simply the fact that Stupid Tom (and that was what she called him to make herself feel better) had tried to do something bad to her.  And she hated him for it.  But it was mainly the fact that Malfoy had seemed more real than the rest of them.  Yet how could Malfoy have been more real?  It was a dream, wasn't it?  It was at that moment that Ginny decided that she hated both Malfoy and dreams with equal valor.  

            "You know, Weasley," an oily voice suddenly said from behind her.  Ginny mentally groaned, wishing with all her might that he would drop dead and she wouldn't have to hear the rest of his sentence.  Or see his good looking yet smirking face.  She unfortunately did not hear his body hit the ground.  "If I didn't know who you were I would be astonished at how disgusting you look."  There was a pause in his speech which he filled with a snort.  "Good thing I know you live with pigs at home, so no worries."

            "You're such a freak, Malfoy," Ginny spat, refusing to turn around, clutching at her broom with both hands.  She liked her broom.  She really did.  And she liked it even more now that it helped her to alleviate her aggravation.  Even if she splintered the wood in the process.

            "I'm the freak?" he scoffed.  She could hear his feet troding through the mud close on her heels.  "Ever looked in a mirror, or are you too poor to even have one of those?"

            Ginny could have sworn that she actually heard her teeth grind that time.  It was a nasty habit really, but she couldn't help it.  Her father ground his teeth and she had inherited the bothersome trait as well.  Oh how her jaw ached this morning.  You see, bad dreams often make her grind her teeth worse than usual.  When she was angry or frustrated or simply annoyed the teeth often met in violence.  

            "What?  No response?" he chided.  

            Letting out a small sigh, she hoisted her broom slightly and swung it around, bringing her body with it.  She stopped when both arms were extended, holding her precious broom but inches from the pointed faced blonde's head.  She was satisfied to see that Charlie's old trick had made the Slytherin look paler than usual.

            "You're not scared of me, now are you?" Ginny chuckled, flicking her wrists slightly so her broom tapped the boy's still head.  "Because I think that would be the sanest thing you ever thought."

            "I am not scared of you," he hissed, stepping away from the broom but not letting his eyes leave her face.  "I'd be more scared of a fly than you."

            "And we all know how you run in fear for your life of them," Ginny sneered then grinned slightly.  "I feel very intimidating now, thank you Malfoy.  You've made my day."

            "You're a nut case," he drawled, frowning at her while he crossed his arms.  Ginny frowned back.  She was getting very tired of this boy.  Sure, she didn't mind a good battle when she was dressed and awake enough to have some sort of wit, but at the moment she was tired, dirty and oh yes, dirty.  And her wit was dropping like a sack of hippogriffs over a cliff.

            "You're one to talk," she replied, moving her broom so it was once again on her shoulder.  She kept hold of it with two hands, just in case.  Malfoy's gray eyes drifted down to where her hands were wringing the handle.  She decided to do it a bit more just for show.  "Do you often take walks in the rain?  Because if you do it explains a lot."

            "When and where I walk is no business of yours, Weasley," he hissed at her, walking forward.  "Now if you'll stop wasting my time, I have more important things to do than to stand about with you."  He brushed past her and she turned, glaring at his back as he sauntered away slowly.  It almost seemed as if he was reluctant to leave.  Which was ridiculous as far as Ginny was concerned.  Why would he want to stay around her?  And why was she even considering that he did?  She wanted nothing to do with him.

            An idea suddenly whacked Ginny in the head, and she decided to take advantage of the blonde's seeming reluctance.  Grinning slightly at the thought, which would really only make her feel better since there was no way it had been anything more than a dream, she took in a deep breath she began to hum.  She knew she was insane.  She knew she was being stupid and that only thing she would do would give him more things to insult her about.  But hum she did, not caring if it was sane or not, it would make her feel better after all.

            The blonde stopped.  Ginny's heart stopped as well.

~*~

            Draco was cold and wet.  It was the last time that he would sit out in a rain storm to watch that stupid red head.  It had been worth it though, as far as he was concerned.  She had been so angry at her brother that it almost challenged the anger she directed at he himself.  Almost.

            She hadn't been as angry as she had been at that git he had seen in his dream though.  Not nearly.  But then, she had seemed more afraid than angry when he had approached her.  If it hadn't been a dream he would be very curious to find out just who the bloke was.  It had been a dream though, a very realistic dream, but a dream none the less.  It would just be odd really if they shared a dream together.  How would it even work?  They hadn't done anything to connect themselves.  Not that he could think of anyway.

            When she had had to do her laps and the rest of her team had gone back into the school, Draco nearly couldn't believe his luck.  Nearly.  He is a Malfoy after all.  A very arrogant one.  Who was to tell him that the red head having to do one hundred extra laps wasn't for his sole enjoyment in some way?  She looked so angry, so thoroughly pissed, that he couldn't help but watch in awe.  He knew it was creepy stalkerish, not to mention insane, but it didn't stop him.  And he smirked while doing it.

            Then of course he just _had to follow her when she was done her laps.  And you can't follow any red head without having to make some comment or another.  It was obligatory.  Or that was what he thought.  He hadn't expected her to get physically violent though.  It wasn't like her.  But then, she hadn't actually hit him, not really.  She just tried to scare him.  And it hadn't worked.  Or at least, that was what he kept telling himself.  He had tried to escape then, trying to keep at least some shreds of his dignity, seeing as their verbal spar was turning in a horrible direction.  Then she had begun to hum..._

            Draco froze, feeling his blood run cold.  There was no way that she could possibly have been there.  There was no way that she had actually heard that song while he had stood there and heard it as well.  She couldn't possibly have seen the Dream Team in loincloths just as he had.  It had to be some coincidence.  Some terrible coincidence that she was some twisted Guns & Roses groupie.  Yes, that was what it was.  It had to be.

            So with this in mind, Draco straightened his back slightly and continued to walk as though her humming hadn't meant a thing to him.  Even if it had him thinking that he was completely absent in the head.  That he was even further gone than he had initially thought.  

            Sure, dreaming about a Weasley was one thing, one thing that wasn't very sane on its own, but to share a dream with one?  And not just any Weasley either.  No, the red headed vixen that he loved to vex so much.  It was just wrong.  It was at this point that Draco assured to himself that he was not going to sleep that night.  Not a wink.  Not that he really needed to worry, since it was just a coincidence after all.  But just in case.  

~*~

            When Ginny opened her eyes later that night she found herself floating in a large tub, filled with luscious bubbles.  The room she was in was no disappointment in the theme of luxury either.  It was large and covered in marble.  Exotic plants seemed to adorn the room along with ornate golden objects.  It was definitely a far cry from Hogwarts, not to mention the Burrow.

            Sighing at the prospect of having a normal dream tonight and not one riddled with Stupid Tom, Malfoy and Beatles music, she leant back intending to enjoy the apparently relaxing dream to its fullest.  This probably wasn't the best of ideas for it seemed to cause Murphy to strike with a vengeance.

            "I'd like to be, under the sea.  In an octopus' garden in the shade."  It was the same singing voice as it had been the last time.  The same cheerful voice that faded in and out of existence.  

            Once again Ginny found herself looking frantically about the room she was in.  Yet she found no sing of any members of the Beatles.  Not even Ringo Star.  She sighed at her idiocy of trying to find them, or even really caring.  It was a dream after all, a dream that seemed eerily familiar to the dream from the night before, but it was still a dream.  Nothing could really happen to her.

            It was at this moment that the door to the bathroom she was occupying opened.  Arms flying to her chest, for no real reason considering all the bubbles, Ginny turned in the tub and felt her eyes grow wide.  The blonde who had entered had a similar expression on his face.  Only for an instant of course before it faded into a sneer.

            "What are you doing in my bathroom, Weasley?" he sneered, glaring at her pointedly.  He was dressed in a silk house coat, his hair pulled back out of his face as though he had just combed it back.  It was wet.  He was also clutching a towel and a few other items that looked suspiciously like clothing.  She was beginning to think that he had had a bath as well.  She didn't even want to consider the implications that were laid out before her.

            Ginny stared back.  This was _his_ bathroom?  No wonder he was such an arrogant prick if he lived like this.  Then something clicked in her head.  How could she have an image of Malfoy's bathroom in her head?  But why would she even ponder that.  How would the dream Malfoy in her head know the difference?  But then. He was sneering rather realistically.  He even had the slight crease between his eyebrows down perfectly.  And he had stopped when she had hummed 'Welcome to the Jungle'.

            "_Your_ bathroom?" she scoffed.  "This is my dream, Malfoy, so it is _my_ bathroom."

            "No, this is my bathroom in my room at home," he sneered at her.  "And this is my dream, not yours.  You're just some annoying figment of my dream."

            "I think you are mistaken," she bit back, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable as his eyes seemed to roam over her bare shoulders.  "My dream, my bathroom, _you're the dream person."_

            "Even in my dream you're an annoying git!" he hissed at her, clutching his towel and bath things closer to his chest.  

            Ginny was spared from responding to the scowling owner of the bathroom as Lee Jordan's voice once again filled her dream.  Ginny began to feel very uneasy.  This just had to be a coincidence.  She was not in another dream with Malfoy.  Another dream with singing and Stupid Tom.  But all signs were pointing to the other alternative.

            "And welcome back to the Magical Mystery Tour ladies and gentlemen!" Lee's voice called, followed by encouraging applause.  "I am so glad that you could all join us once more!  We have such a treat set up for you today!"  More applause.  "Yes, I know they are on a break, and their Greatest Hits album proves this, but they are still great!  You all know who I am talking about!  That's right!  No Doubt!"

            More applause echoed through the room and Ginny looked around.  Still no one to take responsibility for the noise.  Her heart beating a little faster, Ginny turned to Malfoy.

            "I am getting the feeling that this isn't such a coincidence anymore," he muttered and Ginny nodded in agreement.  It was then, when she was looking in his eyes that she knew that this wasn't just an ordinary dream.  That Dream Malfoy wasn't really a dream at all.  That he was somehow real.  And it unnerved her more than anything in the world had ever done.  There had to be some mistake.  There had to be something screwed up.  There was no way that Malfoy could get into her dreams.  No way at all.

            "And now, as I am sure you all want to know what the wonderful song is," Lee's voice said joyfully.  "I'll let you listen to that wonderful song 'Bathwater!'  There was more applause then a few gasps.  

            Ginny looked around and gasped herself.  There, on the opposite side of the room from her, where a wall had been before, now stood a large stage.  There were blinking, glittering lights all over it, and mist rolling across its surface.  No one was on the stage but as a trumpet begun to play from somewhere out of sight the mist increased.

            She once again glanced at Malfoy, to see that he was slowly walking towards her, eyes on the stage.  She would have kept her eyes on him, but the sound of a voice signing to the music distracted her.  Turning back to the stage, Ginny's eyes widened, not for the first time that night, to see Tonks and Luna walk onto the stage.  Both were clad in odd assortments of clothing that could only be described as sluty.  Tonks opened her blue lips (which clashed with her hair) and began to sing.

            "You and your museum of lovers, the precious collection you've housed in your covers.  My simpleness threatened by my own admission!" her voice greeted her ears, and she knew right away that it wasn't really her voice.  It was who ever the lead singer of No Doubt was' voice.  Not Tonks.  But it still didn't mean that Tonks didn't look good while she sang, it was very realistic.  Luna on the other hand just stood there, looking off into space as usual.  Which was a little odd to say the least.

            Ginny nearly jumped out of her skin when someone sat down on the ledge of the tub near her head.  Letting out a short gasp she felt her heart slow down a touch when she realized it was Malfoy who had plopped down and not someone stupid, if you know who I mean.  He smirked at her for a moment then turned his attention back to their apparent entertainment for the evening.  So far it seemed quite docile.  But then, a rabid wolf could probably be seen as docile when compared to the performance of the night before.

            "And my bags are much too heavy, in my, insecure condition," Tonks continued to sing, and Ginny looked up at her, expecting to see her old friend.  It was slightly too late for Ginny, however, for Tonks was already changing her appearance, as she had a nasty habit of doing.

            "My pregnant mind is fat full with envy, yeah."  Tonks did not sing this last line.  No, it was Tom who had, and he as staring right at Ginny while he sang it.  She froze.

~*~

            Draco had been more than a touch annoyed to find himself standing in the grayness.  He had tried so very hard not to fall asleep that night, but apparently his efforts had been in vain.  And then the grayness had faded as it had the night before and he found himself before his bathroom door.

            It had been quite a surprise, to say the least, for Draco to find the Weasley in his bathroom.  And it wasn't as if she had just been standing in there, no, she had to be in the tub with no clothes on.  And the worst part was that there were no other clothes to be seen lying anywhere in the room.  And then she just had to turn and look at him, showing off her nicely sculpted shoulders.  If he hadn't been so intrigued and obsessed with her anger he was sure that her shoulders would have been his next obsession.  He knew he was seriously losing it.

            And then the singing had begun and he had somehow seated himself on the rim of his large tub.  He wasn't quite sure why, but he supposed it was a good thing, because as soon as the pink haired woman turned into the boy from the night before he didn't really care why he sat down.  The girl behind him once again looked like some terrified animal.  He felt the familiar pang of jealously at this.  

            "But I still love to wash in your old bathwater," the black haired boy sang, running a hand along Loony Lovegood's jaw line.  She completely ignored him, staring off into space.  "Love to think that you couldn't love another.  I can't help it... you're my kind of man!"

            Draco looked up at the boy, and realized something that he hadn't a few moments before.  Just like the woman that he had been, he was dressed in sluty clothing as well.  Tub top and all.  It struck him as oddly amusing, and when he turned to look at the red head in the tub he couldn't quite figure out why she would be scared of a guy dressed in woman's clothing.  

            "How can you be scared of a guy dressed like that?" he muttered, and she started as his words greeted her ears.  He grinned at this, slightly happy that he could make her jump as well.  He seriously had problems and he knew it.  

            "I'm not scared of him," she hissed back, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of red.  He did not just use that adjective.  Ugly, horrendous, despicable!  Not lovely.  No.

            "You're a bad liar," he began to reply.  He never quite got the chance to though as the girl in the tub's hand flashed out of the water and latched itself onto his arm.  Draco felt shock roar through him.  She had never touched him before.  It had always been the other way around.  But he couldn't exactly say that he disliked the feeling.  And he hated himself for it.  

            Turning to look at her, he saw shock all over her face, but she wasn't looking at him.  He turned and followed her eyes and started at the sight before his eyes.  The boy that had been on the stage was now on the floor strolling towards them, a predatory leer in place on his face.  Draco was really beginning to dislike this boy, even if he did cause the Weasley to cling to him in support.  

            "So why do we choose the boys that are naughty?  I don't fit in, so why do you want me?" he continued to sing, the female voice sounding horribly wrong issuing from his lips.  "And I know I can't tame you... but I just keep trying!"

            The grip on his arm increased, but Draco found that he couldn't look at the terrified girl, even if it was something that he enjoyed.  The feeling of uneasiness that the boy had caused him to feel last time was once again returning.  Because of it, he could not bring himself to look away as the dark haired sluty boy got ever closer.

            "'Cause I love to wash in your old bathwater.  Love to think that you couldn't love another.  I'm on your list with all your other women," he sang on, coming to a stop in front of Draco.  He found himself looking up at the boy, feeling his uneasiness grow.  Why was he after him this time and not the red head?  Why was he making him feel so uneasy?  Why was he reaching out his hand?  "But I still love to wash in your old bathwater.  You make me feel like I couldn't love another.  I can't help it…you're my kind of man!"

            Draco found himself leaning back away from the hand whose fingers looked far too long and spider like to be considered normal.  He could feel the heat of the Weasley's body against his skin as he got closer to her, but he ignored it.  All that really mattered was that he got away from the person who was singing and trying to touch him.  The person who was grinning wickedly in the process.

            It was at this moment that the trumpet struck up again.  The dark haired boy paused, then continued his slow approach.  Then Luna, totally forgotten by all parties, began to sing.  It wasn't words that came out of her mouth however, no, it was strange calls that sounded almost like "woo" or "oh".  The boy stopped and swung around, glaring at the dirty blonde who had seemingly startled him out of his attack.  Draco was so startled himself that he found himself falling backwards. 

            There was a loud splash and he felt water invade his nostrils and mouth.  With hurried movements he tried to sit up, only to find that his legs were still hanging out of the tub and the red head he was partially sitting on was hitting him furiously with her hands, all limbs flailing.  It seemed that her fear had been redirected into anger.

            "Ahh!" her words reverberated in his head, his ears ringing from the fact that her mouth was right beside his ear.  "Get out!  Get out, get out, get out, get out, get OUT!"  Every phrase was said with a helpful whack on the head.  

            "Gah!" the now soaking blonde uttered, struggling to sit up properly.  Unfortunately this meant that he had to use the girl's body as leverage.  "Stop hitting me woman!"

            "Ow!  Stop it!" she suddenly howled, hitting him eve harder.  "That was my boob!"

            Draco stopped moving.  He had just touched...?  Oh, this was wrong.  

            "Get out!" she shrieked, and a large shove later, Draco found himself sprawled out on the floor, soaking wet.  He looked around and realized that he was the only one on the floor and other than the fuming red head, he was alone in the room.

            "The music stopped," he said quietly, more to himself than anything or anyone else.

            "Why do the good girls always want the bad boys?" suddenly drifted through the air, causing him to look around in search of the voice.  He didn't find it though.

            "Well, it seems that things got out of control again," Lee's voice echoed through the room, replacing the other voice that had been there before.  "But no worries!  I have an even better song that is even more meaningful where these two are concerned!  And it's by Bob Seger!"  There was more clapping.  "Old Time Rock and Roll, here we come!"

            There was a slight pop, and when Draco looked up from the ground he was still sitting on he was greeted by the sight of Dumbledore in leather pants.  He felt his eyes grow larger than he felt was physically possible and his mouth fell open.  A glance at the girl in the tub showed him that he wasn't the only one with this shocked expression.  Not by a long shot.

            Music began to fill the air, and then Dumbledore opened his mouth, seemingly completely oblivious to his audience.  "Just take those old records off the shelf.  I'll sit and listen to 'em by myself."  The voice was gruff and so different from the Headmaster's that it made Draco shiver.  "Today's music ain't got the same soul.  I like that old time rock 'n' roll!"

            It was at this time that Dumbledore began to dance.  And it wasn't pretty.  Draco heard the Weasley groan and he joined her.  It was just too wrong.  Too twisted.  Even worse than Potter in a loincloth.  

            "Don't try to take me to a disco!  You'll never even get me out on the floor!" Dumbledore continued, swishing his hips violently.  "In ten minutes I'll be late for the door.  I like that old time rock'n' roll!"  More hip swishing, and head bopping, now accompanied by arm waving.  "Still like that old time rock'n' roll!  That kind of music just soothes the soul.  I reminisce about the days of old.  With that old time rock 'n' roll!"

            "Ahh!" the red head shrieked, burying her head in her hands.  "Just make it _stop_!"

            And with that, everything faded away.

~*~

            Once again, two teens awoke with a start, both trying to either find the other or the dancing headmaster.  The one thought she saw him, but it was only the image burned into her retinas.  With slight sighs, they both rolled over and tried to sleep once more.

            But it didn't happen.

~*~

A/N: Yay, I got my fav No Doubt song in and my fav Bob Seger song in too!  ~snickers~  What fun!  Anyhoo, I seem to have a thing for bathtub scenes lately.  Now that I think about it I have had more than a couple over the years.  And I want to write a few more before I am done...  So, has anyone figured out where I am going with this yet??  Just curious...  Anyhoo, don't know when the next part will come out.  Do you even want another part to come out??  

Many thanks to: **StArLiTeStArBrItE1, Lallie**(Yes, I am very lucky. And I know it was a creepy image, that's why I put it in... MENTAL IMAGE! Hee)**, Laiannon-fae-elf, Hplov4eva, SkysTheLimit**(Hmm, that makes for a very interesting image there. Perhaps it should be drawn...)**, jules t**(Uh, Magical Mystery Tour. The one from today's chapter was called Octopus' Garden)**, Goddess, o0true0o, meena2, Anika(My god! You're alive! Good to hear from you hun!)****, Elyse, Angel Black1, aurora borealis1(Oh, I love Pratchette. One of these days I will finish all those books... How many have you read so far??)****, Rockelle(Hmm, that thought sounds failure, but I will say no more :D)**, VirtualFaerie**(I don't believe it. It can't still be there)****, cashew(You were one screwed up child, no offense. I like your new choice much better :D)****, tulzdavampslayer(~grin~)**, grinnw** and **storm079.****


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